Chapter 78: Training Begins
CLANG!
The sharp ring of steel meeting steel echoed through the courtyard like a bell announcing the commencement of battle. The impact sent visible shockwaves rippling through the air, causing the leaves on the nearby ancient oak to rustle and tremble as if the tree itself was bearing witness to the clash.
Su Tianhao and Su Lei moved in a deadly dance around each other, their swords weaving intricate patterns of steel and shadow through the morning air. The space between them filled with the constant sound of clashing blades, the sharp scent of sweat mingling with the metallic tang of steel, and the palpable intensity of two warriors pushing themselves relentlessly toward their limits.
"Hahahaha! This is what I'm talking about!" Su Lei laughed with exhilaration as he brought his silver blade down in a powerful overhead slash, his entire body weight behind the strike.
Su Tianhao's golden eyes flashed with laser-sharp focus as he raised Shadowfang to meet the descending attack. For a crystalline moment, time itself seemed to freeze—absolute stillness hanging in the air like a held breath—until their blades finally collided.
Shadow and silver.
Dark and light.
CLANG!
At that precise instant, Su Tianhao's eyes narrowed to calculating slits. A profound glint of understanding flickered within their golden depths as his wrist twisted with surgical precision.
This time he wasn't merely blocking—he was redirecting.
His blade tilted at the perfect angle to catch Su Lei's descending strike and guide it harmlessly aside. The force of the attack slid smoothly off Shadowfang's edge, causing Su Lei's momentum to carry him forward and past his intended target like a skater gliding across frictionless ice.
Su Lei's silver sword sliced through empty air as Su Tianhao's masterful redirection sent him stumbling past, his balance momentarily compromised.
Su Lei's eyes widened in surprise as he quickly recovered his footing, his distinctive silver hair streaming behind him like a wind-caught banner.
"What was that move?" he exclaimed, spinning to face Su Tianhao with renewed respect coloring his voice. "That wasn't a parry, was it?"
"It wasn't," Su Tianhao confirmed calmly, his stance already resetting for the next exchange.
"Then what was it?" Su Lei pressed on, obvious anticipation and curiosity filling his tone. His competitive spirit demanded understanding of any technique that could best him.
"That was Deflect," Su Tianhao explained, his voice taking on the quality of a patient teacher. "Unlike parry or simple blocking, deflecting is fundamentally about adapting to your opponent's momentum rather than opposing it directly."
He demonstrated the motion again in slow form, his blade tracing the path it had taken moments before.
"You don't try to stop the attack head-on through brute force. Instead, you use the inherent force of the strike itself to your advantage—redirecting the energy and simultaneously creating an opening for your own counterattack. It's a delicate balance between precise control and flow, like water finding the path of least resistance around a stone."
"I see..." Su Lei muttered in a slight daze, his analytical mind processing the explanation. A profound glint of sudden understanding flashed through his eyes as the concept crystallized. "So that's what Deflect truly is..."
As Su Tianhao voiced his own understanding of the technique, his thoughts churned inwardly, recalling his mother Yuexin's precise words:
"Deflect transcends simply redirecting the force of an already incoming strike. To execute the perfect Deflect, you must read the attack before it fully manifests—see not just where the blade is, but where it wants to go. Don't meet strength with strength. Flow around it like wind through branches. Let the storm pass through your blade, not against it."
"I'm still somewhat lacking in that particular aspect..." Su Tianhao admitted with a wry, self-deprecating smile. His deflection had worked, but it hadn't been the effortless, elegant technique his mother had demonstrated in that mysterious realm. His was functional competence rather than true mastery.
Turning back toward Su Lei, Su Tianhao couldn't help but chuckle softly upon seeing his training partner still caught up in contemplative thought, his guard completely lowered.
"Has no one ever told you it's foolish to get distracted during battle?"
Su Tianhao's voice rang out clearly, snapping Su Lei from his internal analysis like a whip crack.
Su Lei's head jerked up, and he regarded Su Tianhao with newfound respect gleaming in his eyes—respect mixed with rueful acknowledgment of the valid criticism.
"Yeah, that was careless of me," Su Lei admitted with a sheepish grin before his expression hardened back into focused determination. "Come at me properly this time. I'm ready."
His stance shifted, weight distributed perfectly, silver sword held at the optimal defensive angle.
"Then I won't hold back."
With those words, Su Tianhao exploded forward with startling speed. His sword sliced through the air with a distinctive whistle, its dark edge catching the morning sunlight as it carved toward Su Lei's guard—closing the distance in a heartbeat.
"So fast!"
Su Lei's silver eyebrows shot up in shock, his pupils contracting. Pure instinct overrode conscious thought, prompting him to throw himself sideways in a desperate dodge—abandoning any intention of attempting to block the lightning-quick strike.
Su Tianhao's blade cut through the space Su Lei had occupied an instant before, the displaced air creating a crisp sound like silk being torn by a razor.
Hiss!
Su Lei sucked in a sharp breath of cold air, his mind racing with disbelief. 'How did his Slash technique improve so dramatically in just a single night?!' He couldn't comprehend the rapid advancement he'd just witnessed—this was the same person he'd sparred with yesterday, yet the speed and precision had jumped an entirely new level.
Seeing his attack slice through empty air, Su Tianhao felt neither disappointment nor satisfaction—only analytical assessment of what had worked and what needed improvement.
Without wasting breath on words, he immediately pressed on, without giving Su Lei a breather. His feet carried him forward with explosive acceleration as he launched into a flurry of attacks, each strike flowing naturally into the next like water cascading down a mountainside.
However, despite the intensity and aggression of his assault, there existed no genuine killing intent behind the attacks—only the pure, burning will to grow stronger through this intense challenge.
This was the true purpose of their training: to push each other beyond their limits, to test skills and techniques in practical application, and to emerge from the crucible stronger and more refined than before.
For Su Tianhao, every clash of blades with Su Lei represented an invaluable opportunity to hone his developing skills, to learn from observing his opponent's strengths and exploiting weaknesses, and to gradually refine his own emerging sword style through practical experience no amount of solo practice could replicate.
And for Su Lei, this training served as a chance to prove himself against someone rapidly ascending to higher levels—to demonstrate his worth as a dedicated sword cultivator, and to earn the respect of an opponent he increasingly recognized as exceptional.
Su Lei's eyes flashed with quiet intensity, bracing himself for Su Tianhao's renewed assault. His earlier embarrassment at that desperate, almost cowardly dodge burned in his chest like hot coals.
"This time I'll face every attack with honor!" he declared, his voice ringing with firm determination.
His silver sword flashed forward in a clean, perfect block as he met Su Tianhao's incoming strike head-on rather than evading.
CLANG!
A sharp, ringing metallic sound reverberated through the courtyard, accompanied by a brilliant cascade of orange sparks where the blades clashed together. Visible shockwaves rippled outward from the point of impact, disturbing the fallen oak leaves scattered across the stone floor.
Su Tianhao didn't bother attempting to use superior physical strength to drive Su Lei backward—he knew such an approach would be foolish and wasteful. In terms of raw physical power, Su Lei already surpassed him by a thousand pounds.
A direct contest of strength would accomplish nothing except exhausting himself unnecessarily.
Instead, Su Tianhao immediately disengaged, his blade sliding free from the lock with practiced ease. He circled smoothly to the left, searching for a better angle of attack while his mind calculated distances and timing with cold precision.
The two warriors began to circle each other like prowling predators, their swords held ready in perfect guard positions, both searching intently for that perfect moment to strike—the split second their opponent's defense would slip or attention falter.
The air between them grew thick with mounting tension. The only sounds cutting through the charged silence were their controlled, measured breathing and the occasional whisper of steel through air as one or the other made testing feints.
Suddenly—Su Tianhao charged forward, his dark blade devouring the morning light.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The intensity of their exchanges escalated with each passing moment. Strike and counterstrike, attack and riposte, a flowing conversation conducted entirely in the language of crossed blades.
Su Tianhao launched a thrust aimed at Su Lei's center mass—
Su Lei deflected it high with a circular parry before immediately riposting with a diagonal slash—
Su Tianhao bent backward at an impossible angle, the silver blade passing mere inches from his face before he snapped upright and countered with a rising cut—
Back and forth the battle flowed like a tide, neither warrior able to gain decisive advantage. Sweat began to bead on both their foreheads despite the cool morning air, their breathing growing heavier but never losing its disciplined rhythm.
It became increasingly clear that this contest would not be decided by a single brilliant technique or moment of inspiration. Only sustained effort, unwavering focus, and the willingness to push beyond comfortable limits would determine who emerged from this clash having grown more.
And neither Su Tianhao nor Su Lei had any intention of backing down.
---
Meanwhile...
Dozens of kilometers away from the Su family estate, the sprawling Ye family compound stood proud and imposing beneath the morning sun. Deep within the heart of the estate lay an elegant private courtyard adorned with expensive decorations and carefully cultivated flowers whose sweet fragrance filled the air.
Two figures sat beneath the massive peach tree dominating the courtyard's center, both wearing expressions of deadly seriousness that contrasted sharply with the peaceful beauty surrounding them.
One was a weathered middle-aged man with long black hair heavily streaked with grey. The other presented a stark visual contrast: a handsome young man with charming features, dressed in expensive robes of green and gold. His hair was tied with meticulous elegance, and his distinctive slanted eyes radiated calculating intelligence.
Ye Shiming and Ye Wenjie.
"Jie'er, how did it proceed?" Ye Shiming asked with barely-concealed urgency. "I've already prepared the spirit stones for payment as you requested."
"Tsk tsk..." Ye Wenjie made a dismissive sound, obvious displeasure dripping from his tone.
"What is it, Jie'er?" Ye Shiming pressed, a slight frown creasing his weathered features. "What went wrong?"
"That bastard Su Tianhao truly possesses a cat's nine lives!" Ye Wenjie spat with undisguised hatred, his hands clenching into fists against his robes.
Ye Shiming's frown deepened. "Stop speaking in riddles and tell me plainly—how did contacting the Blood Shadow Assassins go?"
Hmph.
Ye Wenjie snorted with frustrated anger. "You think it's so simple to contact them? I had to go through a very specific intermediary in the black market—someone with the right connections. But when I arrived there early this morning, I was informed she's currently occupied with other businesses and will be unavailable for at least a full week."
"The black market? And this intermediary is a woman?" Ye Shiming raised an eyebrow in surprise, his analytical mind immediately cataloging this unexpected information.
Ye Wenjie nodded curtly, his expression dark. "I won't go into unnecessary details about how I discovered her or built that connection—it required considerable effort and no small amount of risk. She's remarkably influential within certain circles, and it cost me an arm and a leg to get her to even consider connecting me to the Blood Shadow Assassin Group." His voice carried barely-suppressed frustration. "Now that she's suddenly unavailable..."
"So we must wait at least a full week before we can issue the upfront payment and officially commission the assassination contract?" Ye Shiming asked for confirmation, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
Ye Wenjie nodded, his jaw clenched with visible irritation. "That means Su Tianhao gets to continue living peacefully for several more days, enjoying his newfound status..."
The thought clearly infuriated him.
"It's merely one week," Ye Shiming said with surprising calmness, his expression shifting to something almost calculating. "Actually, this delay might work in our favor if we're patient and strategic."
"What are you saying?" Ye Wenjie's frown intensified, genuine confusion mixing with his anger. He wanted Su Tianhao to die as soon as possible to finally quench this burning resentment consuming his heart. How could a week of mounting frustration possibly be good for them?
Ye Shiming smiled with dark, knowing satisfaction—the expression of a predator who had spotted an unexpected advantage in what initially appeared to be a setback. His voice dropped to a conspirator's whisper, laced with cruel anticipation.
"Consider it from this perspective, Jie'er: given this extra time, that arrogant Su Tianhao will be living completely peacefully, thoroughly enjoying his sudden rise in status and newfound privileges. He'll grow comfortable, perhaps even complacent." Ye Shiming's smile twisted into something cruel. "That means he won't anticipate what's coming for him at all. No guards raised, no suspicions aroused, no preparations. He'll be a sheep fattened for slaughter, blissfully unaware until the knife finds his throat."
"Hahahaha!" Ye Wenjie's eyes suddenly lit up with dark comprehension and malicious delight. "You're absolutely right, Father! He won't have the slightest idea what hit him! The shock and despair when death comes will be exquisite!"
His slanted eyes narrowed dangerously, glinting with unmasked cruelty and deep-seated hatred that had been festering since his public humiliation.
"Su Tianhao..." Ye Wenjie murmured, his voice barely above a whisper yet carrying immense malice. "Enjoy these final days of your pathetic existence. Savor every moment of peace and false security. They'll only make your inevitable death much more pleasing when it finally arrives."
Ye Shiming felt a sudden chill run down his spine, genuinely taken aback by the sheer ruthlessness radiating from his own son. The cold calculation and complete absence of mercy in those words would have disturbed most fathers. But instead of reprimanding such dark thoughts, Ye Shiming couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of paternal pride swelling in his chest.
'This is my son,' he thought with grim satisfaction. 'Strong enough to do what must be done, ruthless enough to see it through to the end.'
---
Meanwhile...
Hidden within the forgotten solitude of Fei Wu Quarter, completely unaware of the lethal conspiracy taking shape kilometers away, Su Tianhao continued his intense training session with Su Lei beneath the ancient oak tree.
Their swords sang their steel song without pause, neither warrior willing to yield. Sweat poured freely now, their breathing had grown heavier, but their eyes remained sharp and focused—burning with the fierce determination of those who refused to accept their current limitations.
In this moment, no assassins existed. No schemes threatened from the shadows. No deadly countdown ticked toward an unknown hour.
There was only the blade, the opponent, and the eternal pursuit of perfection through combat—the simple, pure path of the sword that had called to warriors since steel was first forged.
And as the morning sun climbed higher in the cloudless sky, painting the courtyard in golden light, Su Tianhao's Shadowfang flashed again and again—each strike a step forward on the long road toward the strength necessary to face whatever destiny had waiting in the darkness ahead.